Monday, January 30, 2012

Superman According to Strangers

Imagine that every day when Superman uses his phone booth to change,
three people happen to walk by.

As Clark Kent ducks in and starts ripping his
clothes off, the first person strolls by. (Clarkie has apparently forgotten that duh, phone booths have glass
doors.)

Huh, the innocent bystander
thinks. I hope that guy’s okay. Did a bee
fly into his shirt? As Mr. Kent continues to get naked, the bystander
wonders if maybe it was a whole swarm.

Then, out steps Superman. Astounded at having seen the superhero up
close and personal, Bystander #1 runs home to tell her family about the guy who
got naked in a phone booth and stepped out wearing his underwear on the outside
of his spandex.

Bystander #2 doesn’t see the transformation, but knows Superman recently
invoked the power of flight in the name of justice. He tries to make an
ordinary phone call, not knowing this booth is Superman’s boudoir. Bystander #2
forgets about the call and examines the random pile of clothes, then discovers
a wallet in them, with Clark Kent’s ID and various personal info.

BOOM. There goes Superman’s anonymity. Also $40, his credit cards, and
various fortune cookie papers predicting an unfortunate oversight on his part. Bystander #2
gets rich blackmailing the supersonic guy from Krypton.

The third passerby is a bit different from the others. He had no idea
Superman was anywhere nearby, and just sees a pile of clothes in the phone booth.
His first thought?

This is no phone booth!

Rather, it’s clearly a teleporting booth. The technology is
rudimentary, as clothing cannot be transported yet. This bystander would love
to test his theory, but is terrified of his own nudity and therefore wouldn’t
dare. He wonders where the owner of the clothing teleported to, and daydreams
briefly about a nudist colony on the moon.

After examining the clothing a bit more closely, he notices there’s no
underwear in the pile (because Clark Kent always, always wears his underwear outside his supersuit). His second
thought comes to him.

He walks, commando, to the nude
teleportation booth!

The owner of this clothing has now become more than a superhero to
Bystander #3. He has become a god among men. The third bystander lies in wait
till Superman retrieves his Clark Kent disguise, completely glazing over the
fact that he didn’t teleport back. Rather, he is focused on this man’s freedom.
Clark Kent is now Bystander #3’s idol, and a savior from both shame and constricting
briefs.

Now poor Mr. Kent has a blackmailer, a stalker, and disturbing rumors
about his undergarments and clothing preferences to deal with, on top of a city rank with crime and
evil-doers. It’s enough to make anyone want to file change of address forms and
move to Mars. Or maybe Pluto, which is at best barely associated with the solar
system anymore.